Chopsticks
by QueenPotatos
Summary: 800 words drabble. Mitoka. Angst Hashimito. One side HashiMada. Toka finds an old hair-clip on Mito's drawer. It brings back old memories.


"Oh shi-I mean, damn. I'm sorry Mito-san, I'm afraid it's broken."

"It's okay, Toka. There is another comb inside my night table."

The tall Senju woman stood up and went to the other side of her friend's bedroom, easily finding what she was looking for. The dark wooden comb was indeed in the drawer, but that wasn't what grabbed Toka's attention.

She was genuinely surprised to see a beautiful hair-clip beside that comb. It has been Mito's favorite for a while. If she remembered correctly, it was the first gift Hashirama had given to her, just before they got engaged.

He had told her that it was nothing extraordinary, that he would give her so much more when he'd had time; but she couldn't have cared less. After all, it was a political marriage. She wasn't supposed to end up happy, she wasn't supposed to fall in love, she wasn't supposed to hit reality so many years later and then, be miserable for the rest of her life.

But, surprisingly, this small gift had troubled her. Toka remembered the conversation they'd had the night she had asked her about the beautiful hair-clip she was wearing.

"_It was really nothing. A small silver hair-clip with a sakura branch on the top. But it is indeed very...sophisticated, and very unexpected coming from Hashirama. Back in those days I used to think he was just good for fighting on the battlefield and know nothing about women. But with that simple gift, Hashirama Senju had also succeeded in the impossible task of intriguing me..."_

Toka blew on the dust that had recovered the hair-clip. She couldn't really remember the last time she had seen her friend with that gift in her hair.

"_At first, I only wore it for special occasions. I don't really know why, but Hashirama tended to look at me differently when I was wearing it...he was...making love differently, definitely. It was more passionate and – oh I'm sorry Toka, I didn't realize. You probably don't want to hear about it, he's your own cousin."_

Maybe it was that time at that traditional Japanese restaurant. Yeah, she remembered now. Mito had already had her okonomiyaki in front of her and Toka had been waiting for her beef yakitori.

"_Back in that time I supposed it looked very good on me. When Hashirama stopped being...needy, after I gave birth to our child, I realized he would only touch me when I was wearing that hair-clip."_

Toka remembered it had taken forever for her meal to come. Maybe it was just because of the tension her simple question had evoked. Mito had been playing nervously with her chopsticks while Toka's stomach was gurgling.

"_Then, one day, as we were about to go out for some special occasion – a reunion with the daimyo if I remembered correctly – I decided to wear it again. I took it out of the drawer, but then I got distracted by our little daughter – she was three that time. I went to the corridor to take her in my arms and when we both came back in our bedroom..."_

Mito had just broken her chopsticks when she had told that part of her story. Toka had then immediately given Mito hers; she didn't really needed them for some yakitori. She never knew why she had asked that stupid question so suddenly. It had just been to pass time until her meal was ready. She would have never imagined it would have cause her so much trouble.

"_...He was holding it, as if it was his _treasure_. And he had that look on his face – that sad and sorrowful look, that he only wears when he is thinking of..._him_."_

The waiter had set down Toka's plate with a loud 'bang'. Mito had stayed silent for a bit, and Toka had felt too horrible to even think of something nice to say.

They had eaten silently.

And during the whole time, Toka had kept wondering why Mito had chosen to wore that hair-clip that night.

"_You know Mito...I think you don't need that hair-clip to look pretty. In my opinion, you'll look gorgeous with just a chopstick to fix your hair."_

Toka had never been good with words, but that night, her thoughts had touched somebody's heart deeply.

* * *

"Mommy! Mommy!"

The next morning, Mito woke up, her hair all undone. Alone in her bed. Hashirama had always been an early riser – but the place next to her had been cold and empty for too long.

She sighed as she adjusted her night-robe and, neglectfully, took her favorite chopstick in her drawer and fixed her hair, before taking her little princess in her arm.


End file.
